


monsters in our head

by poe_daaaayyuuuumron8



Series: OW [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackwatch Era, Dad 76, Deadeye (Overwatch), Deadeye Side Effects, Deadeye is the equivalent of ooc'ed, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Hurt Jesse McCree, M/M, Mom Ana Amari, Parent Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes is Jesse McCree's Parent, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison is Jesse McCree's Parent, Supernatural Elements with Deadeye, Use of Parentheses as a form of style, but - Freeform, deadeye - Freeform, lots of parentheses, not actually, too many - Freeform, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27395770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poe_daaaayyuuuumron8/pseuds/poe_daaaayyuuuumron8
Summary: Deadeye, Jesse McCree’s ultimate power, comes at a price.Or:Jesse McCree uses Deadeye, and it's too much this time. Jack and Gabriel aren’t the only ones who care for the kid.
Relationships: Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree & Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Jesse McCree & Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Jesse McCree/Genji Shimada, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes & Genji Shimada, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, You can decide if you want slash pairing with
Series: OW [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051115
Comments: 3
Kudos: 108





	monsters in our head

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry, I’m well aware that this timeline is all wrong, but at this point, I can’t care anymore. Sorry if this is at all confusing, it's confusing to me too, don't worry.

“Do you remember what I said?” 

The question is barely heard above the omnics firing, but Gabriel hears it. It’s hard not to, when you’ve conditioned yourself to listen for his voice.

Jesse, all 6 feet of the 22 year old, is shaking. Gabriel ducks down behind cover and pulls Jesse with him. 

“What? McCree, are you hit?” he yells, and examines Jesse for any possible wounds. 

“Jefe, there’s too many of them. We ain’t gon’ make it outta here if I don’t do this,” Jesse says, and reloads Peacekeeper with trembling hands. 

“What?” Reyes says, peering over the tipped taco stand. “Jesse what are you talking about?” 

Jesse McCree looks at him, and Reyes tries not to panic at the look in his eyes. “It’s gon’ hurt like a bitch, but I’mma be okay. Just remember that.”

Reyes shakes his head, confused, horror filling his voice. “Jesse, what are you doin’?” 

Jesse closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them, there’s the beginning of that glowing red flooding his pupil. “M’ sorry,” he says.

Reyes stops breathing. 

Jesse’s face goes blank. 

Reyes wants to stop him, more than anything. 

Jesse steps out behind the cover, Peacekeeper in his hand. Time slows, as it does when he has turned, and Reyes is stuck, watching Jesse (not Jesse) advance. 

The bullets coming at him curve, and he remains unscathed. 

The one thing Reyes hears, even above all the other movement in the room, is Jesse (it’s not Jesse). 

“It’s high noon.”

And then the enemy starts dropping. Humans, AI, Omnics, any one who stands in front of Jesse (it’s. not. Jesse.)

If Reyes weren’t so scared for him right now, he’d be impressed. But he knows what comes after. 

(“What was that?” Reyes had asked the first time Jesse used it.

Jesse had laughed, but it wasn’t a real one. It was forced, wet, like he was trying not to cry. “Reyes, meet Deadeye,” he had said, and had not said much else.)

Genji, at Reyes’ side, stilled. “There’s too many for him. He will be hurt,” he whispered. 

Reyes nodded, numb. “Start clearing a path out.”

Jesse (it’s not Jesse, stop thinking of him like it is) fired away, and the enemies fell, faster than Reyes could count. 

Too many for Reyes to count.

Jesse (Deadeye.) killed them all. 

When it was over, there was nothing but a long second of silence. 

And then Jesse fell.

It was Jesse this time, Deadeye was over, so Reyes ran as fast as he could to get to him. 

He had fallen on his hands and knees, and Reyes could hear him gasping for air before he even got close, and winced as he puked his guts out, dry heaving at the end of it.

“Jesse, Jesse!” Reyes called, and hesitated to touch him. “Jesse, can you hear me, mijo?”

Jesse nodded, gasping for air. Something dripped down onto the ground below him, and Reyes thought he was crying at first, which he would not be surprised by; Deadeye took a lot out of Jesse. But, Reyes looked at the spot of moisture, and winced. 

It was blood. 

“Alright mijo, I’m going to touch you now, okay?” Reyes warned as he squatted down next to him, avoiding the throw up and pulling the boy into his arms. 

“Can’t see.... hurts,” Jesse slurs, and a pit forms in Reyes’ stomach. He eased Jesse up so he could see his face, and promptly wanted to throw up, himself. Blood drips out of every hole in Jesse’s face; his ears, his nose, his mouth, even his eyes. Especially his eyes. 

“Oh god, Jesse. What the hell were you thinking,” Reyes said, before hurriedly trying to wipe away the blood on his face. “Just keep your eyes closed, please Jesse. It’ll be easier that way.” 

Jesse gasped for air, and his breathing sounded wet. “Wasn’t… thinking. Had to get ya outta here-” he chokes on his own blood, and it sputters out of the side of his mouth. “-but it hurts, god, hurts.”

“It’s okay, Jesse, you’re gonna be okay,” Reyes tried again, even though he knew it was useless. “There were too many of them, you shouldn’t have done that, vaquero. Eyes closed for me.” 

Jesse blinks rapidly, (and there's tears, not just blood coming out of his eyes) and his eyes fall shut, his breathing uneven and sounding incredibly wet. 

Reyes doesn’t know what else to do, so for now, for just a moment, he holds him to his chest and lets him get his shirt all dirty with his blood. 

The only reason he moves is because Genji bursts into the room, dashing to them super-humanly fast. He looks as if he’s about to say something, but then he sees Jesse. He freezes, eyes locked on him. 

“Genji,” Reyes says softly, but the kid doesn’t respond. “Genji, mijo.”

That gets him out enough, because he jerks his head and blinks. “Drop points clear. Ship’s waiting. Waiting on you.” Gabriel winced at his clipped tone, like he was about to faint any second now. Giving the pale part of his face not hidden by his mask, Gabriel wouldn’t put it past him at the moment. 

“Genji, I need you to focus, okay? Help me get him out of here, panic later. No passing out on me,” Reyes said, using a hint of his ‘Commander Voice’ as Jesse liked to call it. It worked, and Genji nodded, visibly stealing himself, before pulling out his katana, and prepping his shurikens. 

“Alright, Jesse, we’re gonna get you home now,” Gabriel tells him, but he thinks he’s half passed out, so he doesn’t know if he’ll even notice. Gabriel takes a deep breath, then lifts Jesse into his arms, careful not to jar him too much. 

Jesse mumbled something, but Reyes couldn’t hear him, so he just brought Jesse out and let Genji cover them as they made their way to the drop ship. 

“C’mon, Jesse just wait a little bit longer, then we’re gonna get you home, okay?” Gabriel murmured to him as they finally got into the ship and he set him down on a gurney. 

“We r'lly need a 'eam medic,” Jesse slurs out, in a weak attempt at talking. 

Gabriel huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah, yeah we do mijo,” he murmurs and places a hand on Jesse’s forehead. He’s feverish and pale, clammy and bloody, and Gabriel feels his heart twist in his chest. 

“God, just hold on you idiot, just hold on.” Jesse doesn't react, and Gabriel bites the inside of his cheek, nearly hard enough to bleed, and watches Jesse’s shuddering breaths. It’s a good reminder that he’s still alive. 

Genji, Gabriel is aware, is sitting off to the side, fingers on his right hand digging into the metal of his thigh, hard enough to dent and hurt himself. 

“Genji,” Gabriel murmurs, softly as to not startle him. “Let go. Relax. You’re hurting yourself.”

Genji’s hand moves after a second and flexes, as if wanting to keep holding on to something. It moves to his opposite elbow, then thinks better of it and holds the armrest at his side. 

It takes too long for them to get back to base, and Gabriel has never been more thankful to see Angela and a small team of medics waiting on the landing strip. She steps into the ship the moment she can and rushes to Jesse, surveying Genji and Gabriel quickly and instructing a medic to Gabriel’s side. 

There’s a scratch on his cheek, bloody and painful when the medic dabs at it with a cleaner, but Gabriel’s attention stays on Jesse. There’s dried blood crusted to the kid’s face, and Angela pries open the kids eyes, looking into them with a flashlight. Her face twitches and she glances up at Gabriel, before quickly going back to work. Gabriel clenches his jaw and focuses back on Jesse, listening as Angela rambled off words he found no meaning in. 

-

“Where the hell is he, Gabriel?” Jack says, his jaw set. 

Gabriel shrinks in on himself. There's a bandage over his right cheekbone. If Jack were perhaps kinder in this moment, he would feel terrible for making him seem so small. 

“Where’s my son?” Jack whispers, and his voice breaks. 

Gabriel’s mouth opens, closes. He inhales shakily. 

“There were too many of them,” Gabriel whispers. “Too many of them, and we were stuck, so Jesse-“ he stops to clear his throat “-Jesse turned. He used Deadeye.” He hears Jack’s sharp inhale. “Jack, there were so many. Too many. Jesse could- could barely take it. There was so much blood, coming from everywhere, and Angela- Angela doesn’t know how to deal with Deadeye, and it’s never been this bad before, and-“ his voice breaks and Gabriel can’t bring himself to continue. 

Jack Morrison has loved Jesse the moment the rag-tag little kid stepped through the door, baby-faced, with a soul of someone a lot older, years ago. He has loved him, and called him ‘son’ because that truly is what he is to him.

Jack has loved Gabriel for half his life. He has loved him, and fought by his side, and put up with his endless need to drag in strays from the street, and then he brought in Jesse- a seventeen year old with nothing but a kill list to his name, who had joined that gang at 11 years old, who told them his name was Eastwood for the first month of his time at Blackwatch. Who had broken down one night, and told them his real name was Jesse, but his mama named him that and he didn’t think his mother would be proud of him anymore.

(“She named me Jesse,” he had said. “She used to say that I would be the best cowboy the South had ever seen, and that I would make her proud one day.” He had shrunk in on himself. “I don’t think she would want me as her son anymore.”

Gabriel and Jack looked at each other, at a loss. Gabriel had recovered first. 

“Jesse, any parent would be proud to have you as their son,” Gabe said. 

“But I-” Jesse started.

“No ‘but’s. Look at what you’re doing now. Look around you. Here you are, fighting in the goddamn war, Jesse,” Jack had continued. “You’re fighting for the people. For good.” He had pulled Jesse into a hug then, and Gabriel had held him from the other side. 

“And hey, I don’t know if it counts for anything, but,” Gabriel had continued, smoothing Jesse’s floppy hair. “We’re hella proud of you.” 

Jesse gripped them tighter, and buried his face in Jack’s shoulder as he cried. 

“Hell yeah we are,” Jack said.)

This was the boy who had yelled at him in Spanish for an entire goddamn minute over some dumbass thing he couldn't even remember, even though Jack knew about two words of Spanish. Gabriel had laughed his ass off the entire, choking on his spit as actual tears had run down his face, only to actually fall out of his chair when Jack heard a word he knew meant ‘donkey’.

This was the kid who had taken one look at the beaten and broken shell of Genji Shimada and said ‘yeah, he’s mine now,’ and made an effort everyday to make sure Genji felt loved, safe, and was taking care of himself, especially after upgrades when he was left oozing almost-black blood, and was in so much pain. 

This was the kid who panicked when they got too close to him in the beginning, because he didn’t want to hurt them. 

(“I didn’t kill my ma. My dad did,” Jesse’s tone was that dangerous kind of broken-soft, that Jack and Gabriel had come to realize meant that there was something deeper to the conversation. They had had to ask him about the night he joined Deadlock and killed his parents, and now they were sorely regretting it. “He was mad, came home throwin’ things, beating me like usual, but it was worse this time, and she was sick, had been for my whole life, and tried to stop him, and-and he just shoved her and she broke. So I took my gun and I shot ‘im. ‘Cause he killed m' mama.” 

Jack and Gabriel are frozen. What could they possibly say that would help him right now?

“What I mean is, you shouldn’t wanna take care o’ me. The last people who did died. I killed one of ‘em. I’ll just hurt you,” Jesse said, knees pulled up to his chest, staring at the ground. 

They’re silent for a long time after, not knowing what to say. 

“You’re not gonna hurt us Jesse. There ain’t a bone in your body that’ll let you,” Gabriel said.

“Deadeye ain’t me though,” Jesse said. 

“Deadeye is still a part of you, even if he isn’t you. You can control him, I know you can, Jesse.” Jack hugged him close, and Jesse all but collapsed in his arms. 

“You’re not gonna hurt us. And even if you do, we’d never leave you,” Gabriel had promised, and hugged Jesse from the other side.)

(((Decades later, after Overwatch is disbanded, McCree shoots Reaper in the side. Reaper nearly let’s himself die, then, because that was his Jesse, his boy Jesse. 

Morrison answers the recall nearly too late, and Jesse punches him in the face the first chance he gets, then sobs into his chest. Morrison just hugs him tighter than he thought possible.)))

This was the boy who had stolen food everyday and stuffed it into his closet in Blackwatch, just in case someone decided he couldn't eat today, like Deadlock so constantly did.

(“Jesse, what is all that?” Jack had asked one day, motioning to Jesse’s closet where a half-hidden pile of snacks had slipped out from behind a blanket. 

Jesse looked at it, then back to Jack. He shrugged, as if he didn’t know, and busied himself with putting on his sweatshirt, looking as he normally did when he assumed he was in trouble with punishment to come. 

Jack immediately relaxed his posture, switching from ‘Strike Commander Morrison’ to ‘Jack,’ in an effort to calm Jesse down.

“Hungry,” Jesse muttered, shrugging again and looking anywhere but Jack, grabbing his wallet with his ID. 

“Bullshit,” Jack rolled his eyes, making Jesse still slightly. 

“It’s not some sort of eating disorder, right?” Jack asked after too long of a silence. 

Jesse glanced at him, frowning. “What? No! It’s not-. It’s-.” He sighed, struggling to form words. 

“It’s… dumb, 'Iunno,” he offered finally shrugging and looking at the ground. “I know you would never, but, if you did…” he trailed off, motioning to his closet. 

Jack’s brain took a second to catch up. “In case we kept you from eating?”

“'Case you said I couldn’t eat, like… like Deadlock did,” Jesse clarified, movements turning a little jerky as he gathered up his gun and bullets for training.

Jack’s silent for a long minute. Too long it seems, because when he catches a glimpse of how Jesse is moving, how he moves with sudden fluidity, gracefulness that Jesse doesn’t possess. 

“Jesse,” Jack said, fighting the urge to settle into a more protective stance. Jesse stilled, and his shoulders rose towards his ears, wincing, and squeezing his eyes closed. 

“Sorry, I- Sorry,” Jesse offered, eyes still closed. His movements turned suddenly much more Jesse-like, instead of that protective way Deadeye surfaces in reactions to situations that Jesse deems bad, or stressful.

“It’s okay,” Jack murmured. “You know we would never, right?”

“Yeah, I-I know,” Jesse said, not looking at Jack. “You gonna tell me t’ stop?”

“No,” Jack answered, and Jesse looked at him questioningly. “If taking food for yourself makes you more comfortable here, then that’s what makes you comfortable. I’m not going to tell you to stop. But, I am going to ask that you make sure you pay for these things though,” Jack smiled slightly.

Jesse nodded, looking very relieved.)

This was the boy who had made him so terrified when he used Deadeye with them the very first time, not because he was scared of him, just because that wasn’t his son. This was the boy who had panicked at the end of it and hyperventilated for so long he nearly passed out, because he was scared of what he could do. 

(When 17 year old Jesse McCree stepped out behind cover, nothing but Peacekeeper in his hand, Jack had nearly passed out. A cold panic had seized his heart and he had frozen in place. Gabriel had dived forward, trying to stop him, but Jesse sidestepped and stepped out further. Time had seemed to slow, and Jack would come to realize that it actually had, because that was a part of it. The only sound, even as he fired his near-deafening pulse cannon, was Jesse’s low, growled words. 

“It’s high noon.”

And then he started firing, but it wasn’t Jesse. Jesse didn’t move like that, surefooted and graceful. Jesse moved like a lanky teenage boy who didn’t know quite how long his limbs were, because that’s what he was. Jesse didn’t fire like that, his footing was all… wrong. Hell, Jesse didn’t even speak like that. His voice was still growing, just like the rest of him. It wasn’t deep, or raspy like that was. Jesse didn’t fucking _glow_. 

The bodies fell, all down with a single bullet between the eyes. 

There was a long moment afterwards, where Reyes and Morrison just stood there as the 7 bodies fell (Peacekeeper was a six-shooter, Jack would later remember). Around Jesse, the red burst, aura, whatever it was, faded, and there was just Jesse standing there. Until he didn’t. Until he fell. They both had dashed forward at the same time, as the boy fell to his knees. One of his hands went up to his face. Reyes and Morrison got to his side at the same time, and they each fell to their knees beside them. 

“Jesse, Jesus Christ, are you okay? What the hell was that!” Jesse had jerked away from Gabriel’s hand, coming to clasp his shoulder and had scrambled back, breathing coming in fast and raspy. There was blood dripping down his chin, from his nose, and Jack refrained from immediately reaching out to wipe it away.

“Jesse, come here, you’re bleeding,” Jack had said, as kindly as he could. 

“I couldn’t, couldn’t see another way, I-I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Jesse had gasped out, and Jack had the sinking feeling he was hyperventilating. “Oh, god,” he had groaned then, and pressed the heel of his hand to his temple. “ _Go away,_ it’s over, just go away,” he had whispered to himself, gasping for breath in between words. 

“What? Jesse, what’s happening? You gotta breathe, mijo,” Gabe said and reached out again. 

Jesse jerked away again. “No! He’s still here, I’ll-I’ll hurt you. He’ll hurt you.” 

If he was being honest, at the time they had absolutely no clue what was happening. It really seemed like a mental break. Afterwards, it still did for a while. But, they had learned more about it.

“Who’s ‘he’, Jesse? What’s happening?” Jack said, tone low, searching for danger in their surroundings. Jesse’s hands clawed at his own forearms, leaving red scratches in the skin, as he wheezed out a breath. 

“Dead-Deadeye,” he says, and a tear drips through the grime and blood on his face. “God, go away,” he whispers quietly to himself, his eyes un-focusing. 

“Jesse, do you want us to leave?” Gabriel asks, clearly confused. 

“No! Don’t-don’t leave me alone with Deadeye, please,” Jesse grits out breathing coming in fast and hard and stuttering. 

“Okay, Jesse, we aren’t going anywhere, don’t worry,” Jack said, and finally gave in to his instincts, grabbing Jesse’s arms and pulling his hands away from the scratches. He made a weak attempt to pull away, but Jack stood firm and gentle. “You’re hurting yourself, Jesse, just breathe.” 

“I’ll hurt you, he’s still here,” Jesse gasped, body rigid and tense, even as a shiver ran through him.

“It’s going to be alright, Jesse. Son, just look at me, you gotta breathe,” Jack murmured and pulled Jesse into him. Jesse gasped for breath, trying to say something that couldn’t quite make it out. 

“C’mon mijo,” Gabriel said, then murmured a few sentences in Spanish, which had Jesse relaxing slightly. Gabriel glanced up at Jack, who nodded for him to keep talking. Gabe grabbed one of Jesse’s hands and kept talking in Spanish, slow, moving words that definitely seemed to help him, at least physically. His breathing slowed, almost to normal except for the occasional shuddering inhale or exhale. 

“I’m sorry,” Jesse mumbles, as Jack wipes the blood from his face.

“No tienes nada que lamentar,” Gabriel whispered to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We’re just worried.”)

This was his son.

“He’s in the medbay. Angie just got him settled,” Gabriel says, jerking Jack back to the present. “I had to- had to hold him as they cleaned the blood out of his eyes,” he says in a hollow tone. 

Jack curses, running his hands through his hair. “Does Ziegler know if he’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s Jesse, he’ll be fine,” Gabriel answers, turning away from Jack. “He always is.” 

Jack stares at the back of his head as he leaves, watching the door close. 

“Don’t do this to me Gabriel,” he whispers to himself. “Not now.” 

He can’t hear him, he’s already gone. 

-

Jesse seems too pale on the bed, with the white sheets and walls and cold metal.

He feels too young and too small and too hurt, and all he can really do without a skull-splitting headache is turn his head slightly. There’s no TV, or datapads, or anything to entertain him, so he lays here and waits for something.

He doesn’t know what.

Actually, if he really wants to admit it to himself, he’s waiting for Jack or Gabe. 

Usually (they hate that he does this enough that there's a _usually_ , but he doesn't mind.) they both stop by. Maybe together, maybe not, but they always stop by. Gabriel was here earlier, he thinks, but he wasn’t truly conscious for that, so he doesn’t think that counts. (All he really remembers is that his eyes hurt a lot, and Gabe was holding him up. He thinks Angela was there too.)

“Jesse?” Angela knocks on the door quietly before opening it. “Captain Amari is here to see you, would you like me to let her in?” 

Jesse goes to talk, but his throat is so raw that it just hurts. He gives her a thumbs-up instead, and she nods, smiling softly. 

Ana steps in, in all her serene glory, she offers him a smile, which he returns to the best of his ability at the moment. 

“Hello, Jesse,” Ana greets and pulls the chair up next to his bed, sitting gracefully. She makes sure to sit on the side with his good eye, the other taped over with a gauze.

He can’t reply, just tries to smile again. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to reply,” Ana smiles, in that raspy voice of hers. There's the beginnings of gray in her hair, long and tied back into a braid. Her usual beret is gone, not hiding her face in shadows, and her Eye of Horus tattoo stands stark on her skin. Jesse smiles gratefully at her. 

“I had to stop Fareeha from running down here the moment she heard you were here. She was very worried about her big brother.” Jesse smiles. “She would only promise to go to sleep once I told her I would visit you. But I am not only here for her. Jack and Gabe are being difficult. Not because of you,” she adds quickly. “With each other, mostly. But they will stop by soon, don’t worry.” Jesse dipped his chin just a little, only mildly jarring his head. Ana takes Jesse’s hand. “Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?” 

Jesse hesitates, not wanting to make her stay for some kid who can’t control his own demon-like power. 

“Jesse,” Ana murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly. Jesse hesitates for half a second before nodding that little nod again. 

She starts talking, and Jesse fades out somewhere around the story of Fareeha’s third birthday party, and how it was such a disaster, but Fareeha luckily loved it anyway. He catches a hint of a story about how Fareeha declared that once she grew up, she would marry Dr. Ziegler, and that’s about it, before a deep, aching sleep consumes him. 

-

Ana moves only after Jesse doesn’t for an hour. He looks dead tired, pale and too quiet. 

It hurts her to see him like this. 

Angela looks dead on her feet, bone tired and swaying as she stands, sorting through a stack of papers in her hand. 

“Angela, dear, you are about to pass out on your feet. I am a trained medic, let me take over for you for a couple hours,” Ana says, gently patting the barely-adult’s shoulder. 

“Oh no, Captain, you can’t do that,” Angela says, shaking her head.

“Of course I can, now go. I will call you in three hours, go take a nap,” Ana declares, pushing her out of Medical. 

She looks insanely grateful, even as she protests, but she eventually just thanks her profusely and leaves, so Ana takes that as a win. 

Reinhardt is still with Fareeha, Athena confirmed, so she needn’t worry about her daughter. Jesse is still asleep, and is miraculously one of the only overnight patients. Usually, with Deadeye, Jesse would sleep in Medical the night after, then be fine by the morning, maybe with a headache or body aches and residual blindness in his ‘dead’ eye, but nothing too bad. Nothing that he couldn’t shake off in a day or two. 

This though…

Ana had read Gabriel’s hastily done preliminary mission report. From what she could gather, this wasn’t quite like the last times. It was worse. Gabriel hadn’t given the exact number of how many Jesse had gunned down, but from earlier in the report, she could gather that it was most likely somewhere around 25 to 30 shots fired off, all dropping synchronously, which was about 15 more than Jesse had ever done in his time at Overwatch. Which meant that they had no clue as to how this would affect Jesse in the long run. (The last time he did 15 in one usage, he was in Medical for almost two days, and couldn't keep any type of liquid down for longer than half an hour.)

It's 1:47 in the morning when the door opens. Ana looks up from her book, trying not to stay on edge. Gabriel stands there, looking surprised to see her. 

“Ana,” he starts. “Didn’t know it was your shift.”

“It’s not. I was here with Jesse, and took over for Angela,” Ana answers, looking back down at her pages. 

“How is he?” Gabriel asks, coming to lean on the desk where Ana sits. 

Ana doesn’t look at him, instead turns the page. “Sleeping. You are not going in there while he is sleeping.”

Gabriel’s jaw flexes, but he doesn’t say anything. “How is he though?” he repeats.

Ana sighs, setting her book down. “Bleeding has stopped, but he can’t talk because of his throat. He’s on oxygen and his dead eye is still bloodshot and blind. He has severe body aches and an even more severe headache. He can barely move. Hasn’t been able to eat or drink yet.” Gabriel stares at a point on the ground, nods once. “I will call you and Jack when he wakes up. He’ll ask for you.” Gabriel nods again, apparently getting the message. 

“Thanks Ana,” he says, and starts toward the door. “Thanks for taking care of him.” 

“We all love him, Gabriel, remember that.”

Gabriel nods, hesitates, nods again, and leaves. 

Ana doesn’t end up calling Angela back into the medbay, letting her sleep through the night, and taking her shift. She’ll probably regret it in a couple hours, but some coffee and light training will help. It’s around 5 am, just in time for morning drills, when someone else walks into the medbay.

Ana, organizing and sorting new inventory, peers around the doorframe of the inventory room. 

“Genji!” Ana calls. The cyborg ninja smiles softly at her, in one of his rare moments of relaxation without his face armor. He’s got his regular body exoskeleton and prostheses, but is wearing a large sweatshirt that does not look like it belongs to him. 

“Hello, Captain,” Genji greets. “I was coming to ask if I could see Jesse. I know you turned away Commander Reyes, but I won’t bother him, I’ll just sit with him.” He wastes no time on pleasantries, which Ana smiles at. 

“You can go in _only_ if you do not wake him,” Ana said, using a bit of her mom-voice, and pointing to Jesse’s door. “Be careful with him, alright Genji?” 

Genji nodded, grinning, and hurried over to the door, opening it slowly and quietly. 

-

No matter how many times he does it, Jesse always despises waking up the morning after using Deadeye. 

It’s such an unpleasant feeling, like his entire body is just failing him, and his mouth always feels as dry as a desert. It’s just so terrible. 

There's a hand holding his, hard and cold in way only Genji’s could be, and he does his best to squeeze his hand lightly, showing him he’s up. 

“Hi,” Genji murmured before Jesse’s eyes opened. “Would you like me to keep the lights off?” Jesse nodded as much as he could, wincing as his head pounded with his heartbeat. “How are you feeling?”

Jesse pried one of his eyes open, looking at Genji. 

“Right, dumb question,” Genji giggled softly, hands clasping his. 

“Need anything? Or do you want me to leave, stay?” Genji offered, resting his head on the bed by Jesse’s hand. Jesse tugged the drawstring of his hoodie as much as he could. 

“Stay?” Jesse rasped out. Genji nodded, smiling softly. “No, here,” Jesse tugged his hoodie again, and shifted his shoulder slightly.

Genji grinned. “Ana’s going to kill me,” he whispered. Jesse hummed, smiling slightly. Despite his protest, Genji crawled into the too-narrow bed, gently resting his head on Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse rested his cheek on Genji’s head, and fell back asleep soon after. 

-

Gabriel finds them after Ana has left, and visiting hours have started. 

Jesse and Genji are sleeping soundly, curled up together and looking as young as they did when they were both dragged in. It’s a site to see. 

Gabriel sits down in the chair waiting at the side and vigilantly sits watch, alternating between drawing in his sketchbook that nobody really knows exists, and filling out reports for the mission. 

Jack comes in about an hour later, and all three of them are asleep. Gabriel’s arms are crossed over his body, sleeping low in the chair, and Jesse and Genji are still sleeping in the hospital bed. Jack smiles and sits down on the ground, using Gabriel’s chair to prop his back on, working on his own reports. 

It’s an interesting sight, when Dr. Ziegler wanders in to check on Jesse; four soldiers in various sleeping arrangements and states of disarray.


End file.
